Ralphie boy greets you.
It was only a matter of time before I wrote a Krude Experience blog about Port Authority in NYC. It's a place I go through at least 10 times a week. It's also one of the most fascinating bus and subway train stops in the world. Anything and everything is at your disposal there.Located near Times Square and riddled with clueless tourists and cranky commuters. An antibiotic shot may be required after your first visit.Only then,you will be able to build up a resistance to Port A's undeniable dark charm.
Port Authority is the Billy Carter to Grand Central Station's Jimmy Carter. Like a bottle of Thunderbird compared to a bottle of Dom Perignon. Most people hurry through Port A and never stop to soak in its low rent ambiance. I do. And I take pictures. And it's always an interesting shot.The assault rifles are real. And loaded.Best to behave. (sorry no pic,the armed guards thwarted my attempt).
The billboards I see on the 7 train from Port A to Grand Central are bizarre,to say the least. Ads for 'healthy Heroin users' or weird breast implant adverts entertain me to no extent.
Only in Port A will you find F.E.D.S.magazine prominently displayed. Right near the candy. I got the last copy from this newsstand. Lucky me.
Men carrying a purse has been an epidemic in Port A for a few years now. Fat Jesus from The Hangover movie really didn't set this trend,but the influence is there. The 'Murse' men often have are better looking purses than the broads have-or so says my fashion savvy blonde gf.
Port A should be considered bum wine central. Not because you can buy bum wine there,but because a plethora of homeless people crash there. Panhandlers and beggars as well. Brown bag your hooch purchase when at Port A,and you should be ok. Cops usually chase the bums and confiscate their booze,regardless of a brown bag.That's bullshit.
Shit. I could go on and on about Port A,but it's best to experience it yourself. There's a few bars,a Duane Reade pharmacy and a Starbucks.Porn shops around the corner. And drug dealers everywhere. What else do you really need when you roll into Manhattan?